Nat remembered something. “D’you know anything about Proteus?” he asked.

Woody looked up from a model Chewbacca. “Whateus?”

Nat reached his hand up to Woody’s neck, pushing aside his hair. “Didn’t you know you have a tattoo on the back of your neck?”

Woody craned his neck to see the livid blue letters in the mirror.

“Apple found it,” remembered Woody. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Nat grimly. “But it could have something to do with whoever is hunting you. I could ask my granddad what he …”

“No!” shouted Woody, eyes flashing. “Thought I could … trust you!”

“You can, of course you can!” cried Nat. “I just thought …”

“The more people know, the worse it’ll be,” said Woody desperately. “Old Mick wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

Nat agreed with Woody on that point. He thought it would be highly unlikely anyone would believe him ever again. He would be a laughingstock if he told them what had just happened to his dog.

“We could threaten Tate with the police, make him tell us who’s after you, or where you’ll be safe.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, Nat knew this wouldn’t work, either.

“‘Phelia and Alec have … have gone,” Woody stammered. “Something … someone … is coming for them. I can feel it.”

“Could you try doing that vision thing again?” asked Nat, hoping to calm Woody down. “Show me stuff, like you did at the farm?”

“I’ll … try,” said Woody haltingly. “What … do you want me to show you?” He was so eager to please, it made Nat feel humble.

“I just wondered if we could communicate like that more when you’re a … when you’re in animal form,” said Nat. “It would make life a lot easier.”

Woody looked crestfallen. “Too hard,” he said glumly, “unless you’re telepathic, too. I can only show pic … pictures, not words. Used to do it with ‘Phelia Tate sometimes; helped show her where to find stuff. Takes a long time … very tiring.” He seemed to remember something. “I could do it easily with Gypsy, though.”

“Who’s Gypsy?” asked Nat, puzzled.

“Sheepdog,” said Woody.

“Mr. Tate’s sheepdog is telepathic?” asked Nat, amazed.

“Lots of animals are,” explained Woody patiently. “Humans, too, till they kind of lost … er … lost …”

“Lost the knack?” interrupted Nat.

Woody nodded. “Dogs can be a bit …”

“Thick?” broke in Nat.

Woody grinned. “B … boring. Cats are better. Gypsy just talks about sheeps.”

“Sheep,” corrected Nat.

“Sheeps,” insisted Woody.

“I s’pose you could do the two-way thing with another Wolven, though,” said Nat excitedly.

Woody shook his head sadly. “Dunno any.”

Nat felt awkward. “Sorry,” he said. “What about your parents?” As soon as he had asked the question, he could have kicked himself.

There was an awkward silence as Woody’s bottom lip wobbled.

“I … think they’re … dead,” he said sadly. “Th … think that’s why I’m being hunted.”